


Crackling Cauldrons and Cunning Crossbows

by strawberriesencream



Category: Naruto
Genre: AU, Angst, F/M, Forbidden Love, Historical, Hurt, Romance, SasuSaku - Freeform, Witch AU, slowburn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-15
Updated: 2020-12-15
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:49:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 19,422
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28096449
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/strawberriesencream/pseuds/strawberriesencream
Summary: SasuSaku Historical AUHer eyes glimmered with fervour, whether in the presence of the sun's beaming rays, or the cold shoulder of the moon's surface. But they seemed to be at their brightest when she glanced at him.His broad shoulders and piercing onyx eyes brought forth nothing but firmness and forbidding walls, but both lost their tenseness when in contact with petals laden in the springtime, or the lotus locks of a certain pinkette.
Relationships: Haruno Sakura/Uchiha Sasuke
Kudos: 9





	1. :Prologue:

**Author's Note:**

> Dedicated to @SilverWolf735, also known as Julia, since she’s my beta reader and has given me an ample supply of ideas for this story. Thank you so much, I love you <3  
> Just a side note, this is a historical au, which I intend for it to be set sometime in the late 17th century, but most of the information being fed is not historically accurate, since I am playing with worlds and whatnots.  
> I do not own any of the Naruto franchise, all the credit goes to Masashi Kishimoto

_______

On every full moon, rituals ... take place on hilltops, beaches, in open fields and in ordinary houses. Writers, teachers, nurses, computer programmers, artists, lawyers, poets, plumbers, and auto mechanics -- women and men from many backgrounds come together to celebrate the mysteries of the Triple Goddess of the Dance of Life. The religion they practice is called Witchcraft.  
STARHAWK, Spiral Dance  
________

The night reeked of quietude, the air smally growing thicker by the minute as the pale, soft face of the moon leisurely waxed through the passing hours, it’s crescent undertaking it’s full, spherical shape. Beacons of light gently caressed the lush, tingling green leaves of Konoha’s cool and ever-growing forest. The rough tree bark, scratched and pruned, held no sign of passing as they stood there, stationary, whilst their scalps of knobby branches that pointed with their stout forms, held the slim pleasure of the kiss of falling fronds.  
The battered, uneven ground laden with compost had been ceased of any treaders; it’s muddy flooring no longer betaking wanderers, casting their hollow pathways and sticky acres of walking sites to areas unknown. The only sound picked up sans the churring of wild insects, lulling themselves to sounding slumber was the silent speed of the zephyr, whistling softly as it glided through, seeping through the heavy plants and grazing the dark ground, bringing wafts of cold following after.

Out of tranquility, war is brought after.

Piercing screams snatch the serenity of Konoha’s sea of woodland, scaring the fowls who were only resting peacefully seconds prior, causing them to flap their wings in panic and fly away, struck in the trance of fear. The succulents shook, the cries echoing with the aftermath of each one an agonising ring that vibrated through the hollow crevasses of each wood. Soft pads of animals were deafened against the harrowing screams, as they scurried hastily to find a much more promising, comforting solace. Squirrels, carrying their crisp, sour berries and nutty acorns hopped light on their feet across the bumpy planes of the forest floor, wondering what just might have occurred to have the night heavily disturbed as such a perturbed hour.

::

Mebuki could no longer hold it anymore. A dam had bursted within her, the bridge collapsing way too early for one’s comfort. She gasped and whimpered as she was cautiously laid on the hand-crafter bed fabricated at the last minute, clutching her stomach for dear life, valleys of tears stinging behind her sclera, stricken with red veins of fatigue. Her mind began to fuzz, as if struck with a thousand balls of cotton, and she was dizzy, failing to catch one breath at a time, each becoming ragged. She could not cast a single spell in such an entranced state.  
Tsunade slipped a hand under her dampened forehead, relieving herself of the feeling of yet another bead of perspiration cascading down her chilling skin. Her body played a game of hot and cold at this very moment, heat surrounding her pounding head, heart pumping ferociously out of pure terror, afflicted upon sharply with a lightning bolt. However, from the neck down, she was freezing, goosebumps curving upwards on her pale skin and feverishly pecking dots of chills along her limbs. Her hands shook greatly, too.

Haruno Mebuki’s water had broken, hours ago--the Senju had lost track of time and had placed the idea of counting away from her mind-- and her contractions grew closer and closer with each strangled breath that escaped her. Lungs that were within the labouring woman flared with urgency, and Tsunade knew that more oxygen had to be supplied, or else she would choke off of her own quaking puffs.  
She witnessed as the woman with sticky chai tufts struggled to contain her shrieks, biting into her hand for painful comfort, her toes itching and scrambling at the end of the bed. Her eyes were scrunched to the brim, lined with slim cords of brimming tears, some already streaming down her aggrieved features.  
Premature, indeed...Tsunade pondered silently in thought, as she propped a small cradling space for the baby that was about to be born. She wound up the strips of wood to barricade and placed a pillow for easement. She then grabbed her rod, walking to the opposite side of the room, where it practically gleamed with unwavering clamour. She stood, proudly towering over it, before sliding her fingers across the stem and picking it up, surveying it one last time, like a fine tooth comb, before furrowing her wet brows and beginning to tend to the lady beside her.  
It was time.

Senju Tsunade’s wand was meticulously crafted, and handled with great care, lest a war had broken out. It had been concocted out of a singular, luscious stem of a bamboo stick, preserved and unrotten with the undying assistance of its wielder (soon to be Tsunade at that time), fixed with intertwining coiling twigs. It was coated in a metallic finish, silvery as a spoon, but not as reflective. At the pinnacle, wrapped firmly in the slim fingers of the responding branches, was an amber, hugely real and cradled in yellow warmth. It belonged to the sorceress herself, chosen out of will; the gem was willed to her. It glowed at her command, and clouded at her feet. She held the staff with pride, along with myriads of other maidens who had accomplished the duty of receiving theirs.

The woman gingerly brought her eyes to a close, taking in a deep breath before clutching onto her rod with more strength. She focused her mind on the power radiating off her yellow crystal, its potency swirling through seams of solid.She found the centre of it’s magic, and dawned all her might on it. It blew a canary colour, gold spiraling through until misty streaks ascended from it. She wished that it would be carried onto the woman’s body to provide more oxygen, and her yearnings were granted. The steamy particles drove through Mebuki’s nostrils, and soon enough her breathing was a little easier to handle. The pain, however, was not.  
Her unborn child was supposed to be brought into the world one month from now, but fate had other plans, apparently. The child had yet a chance of survival with some accommodation, Tsunade hoped. The process of labour had not only worn her out physically, but her mind was ripped to shreds. With each accentuated push, she could feel the Haruno’s strength deteriorating, and could only support her with more from her share. 

On the twenty eighth day in March, barely grazing the second hour, a new witch was born.  
Tsunade cradled the girl in her arms, light as a feather, and sound asleep. She did not cry, nor did she open her eyes, her widening mouth and small, heaving chest were the only signals she had to opt to in order to rely and record that this child was indeed alive. A living breathing thing. Now, another being attached to the coven hidden away in the leaves.  
She had prepared water from the nearby streaming lake, purified and decently cold, and slowly washed the infant, wary of any mishaps, she warmed it up slightly so the tingling feeling wouldn’t be as strong.

She wrapped the baby in a warm cloth stained black, and handed her to Mebuki, who smiled weakly as the girl was brought close in her arms. The presence of the newborn child wrought a new set of tears to her eyes, as she sniffled and held the small girl as tightly as she could-- she did not squeeze hard, she only did what she could, since the both of them were weak at the moment.

::  
“What will you name her, dear?”  
The medic wrought out streams of water from her squared flannel, dipping it in cold water and then repeating said process. She spectated as the woman across the room gently lifted her head up from her sleeping baby to the Senju. A soft clearing of the throat resonated quietly across the room.  
“...Sakura. Haruno Sakura.”  
Her voice, laced thickly with wisps and rasps brought from her cries made her throat tender and sore, so she struggled to speak with her usual strong legato. The name, however, brought a smile to both their faces. Tsunade brought the small bucket and set it upon a small stud of wood that, in not counting the makeshifts of beds for both the mother and daughter, was the only real piece of ‘furniture’ the room possessed.  
She ordered the Haruno to slowly lie down properly, her head supported by the weight of feathers stuffed into cotton, before proceeding to dab the flannel on her clammy forehead, then resting it completely afterwards. This brought out a sigh from the patient.

“Thank you, Tsunade.”  
Words that were self-explanatory in this case, ushered forth worry in the aforementioned’s mind. Her golden brows knitted in disdain, whilst slowly retracting Sakura from her mother’s arms. She placed her in the small crib she had seemingly crafted before; then she preceded to the wall, pressing her back against it as she slid herself onto the cemented ground. There, she stared out at the open door. No light was switched on, only the silver moonlight transfixed from the open door held some brightness of the room, as well as cooling it down. It had felt quite humid in the presence of tension and fear, panic and dignity.  
She stole one last glance at the child: her skin creamy and soft, her mouth piped open slightly as her small chest receded with every intake of breath, and soundlessly exhaled and puffed right after. The corners of her lips twitched upwards slightly as she put all of the weight on her head against the wall, her eyes fluttering to a close.

::

Mikoto stared intently across the planes of Konoha’s now settling village. The sun had begun to set, stinging colours of orange and purple into a frenzied rendezvous, as it did every night. She observed, from the assistance of her small balcony giving her the liberty of seeing the stretching greenland and houses built across and beyond her fielding vision. Her raven locks waltzed with the zephyr, who was slightly cold and playful at the very moment.

She took the time to bring her lids down, her onyx globes no longer prominent. She inhaled, the chilling air sending shivers down her spine. She turned back, not opening her eyes until they were perfectly cast upon a crib with a sleeping boy. She softened in his presence. Her back returned to him, however, and she continued gazing out, this time her expression matured and stern.

“A storm is brewing…”

If one were permitted to look close enough, without blinking, they would be able to make out shards of crimson flickering through a sea of obsidian.  
______

So this is the prologue! I hope you guys liked this, and if you’re wondering, yes, I will be working on this and Alphabetical Order at the same time, so wish me luck that I won’t die during the process. Until next chapter--


	2. :one:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimers:  
> •Dedicated to Julia  
> •I do not own the Naruto franchise, credit goes to Masashi Kishimoto
> 
> Proper notes and vents will be situated at the end of this story.

________

"What was my mother like?"

Tsunade paused, the sink running freely with waters trickling down the tower of china plates, and soiled silverware. She quickly turned the faucet off to preserve her tap liquid, smoothing the thin layer of water soaking her palms in order for it to dry. She cleared her throat, albeit a bit too roughly, so she rasped when her words were directed to the adolescent pinkette.

The Senju turned to face her, her syrupy brown orbs staring intently, witnessing the undying curiosity in gleaming jade. A breathy sigh escaped her throat.

"She was...a fine witch. She did every task given dutifully, and performed our rituals beautifully-"

"No," blossom locks swished as the rosette shook her head slightly.

"Aside from being a witch, what was my mother...really like?"

Blonde brows rose up; she had definitely not expected such a question to pop out of the young girl's mouth--it had caught her off guard. And she especially didn't expect to indirectly be asked to reminisce to her time of youth. Those days were long gone: faint memories that crawled behind her; slim creasing wrinkles around the edges of her eyes and thick, supple white strands of hair growing along with her tufts of gold proved that fact to be true.

“Haruno Mebuki was a kind witch. She had an out-going personality, and a ferocious temper. Sometimes, in order to control it, she would direct it towards her work, so she would get it done with much fervour. You remind me of her, you know,” she smiled, reaching out to gently tuck a loose pink strand behind the girl’s ear. Her lips pulled tightly as she struggled to maintain that small grin.

“Your eyes carry that same intensity as hers. Both a luscious shade of green and always filled with determination. You may have also inherited that fiery personality of hers,” she slyly slid in, raising her note of voice a few octaves higher as each syllable cracked out. She witnessed lotus brows elevate.

“Really?”

“Mm.” she said, planting her hands firmly into Sakura’s shoulders. She gave the young lady a hard look of resilience.

“Don’t waste what you mother left you. Make her proud, okay? That doesn’t mean being perfect either; she never was, and she doesn’t expect you to. Just carry on her name, but be you when that happens. They will know Haruno by your mother, but they will know you as Sakura. You are her legacy.” She gave her a light pat on the centre of her scalp.

“Run along now, I’m sure the Yamanaka’s are expecting you soon, right?”

She skidded away, her slim back bouncing with joy in Tsunade’s vision. She knew the child had taken in the information she had received fully and pensively; she just needed to take a breath first before she could take action with it.

______

Sun rays cast brooding beacons of light through the translucent curtains, kissing the pale skin of a slumbering pinkette. Her room, brought forth through with darkness, barely received any of the warming glow from the day, but the Haruno nowadays often forgot to shut her veiling material properly due to undenying fatigue. Her figure rested peacefully amongst sheets of cream covers, tangled and twisted between her long legs, and cushioned pillows that had her rose locks sprawled across, her head weight supported carefully as she slept.

She slowly started to stir, her consciousness beginning to thrum through her waking head once more, her eyes fluttering open after a minute or so. She paused to feel the warm glow splashing the space between her shoulder blades, and squinted when flipped around to witness the pure daylight beams. She sighed, both delighting and dreading the feeling of morning on her skin. The covers shielding her body from the chest down suddenly grew hot, and she carefully peeled them off her in order to stand. She bathed in the heat of the sun, stretching her tensed limbs, relieving them from their slumber, then let her feet prod her downstairs.

::

Her ears contracted the noise of a quiet thud resonating through the landing as she padded down her stairs, each foot lightly tapping on the panels of wood staged to support her short journey. It was when she approached the kitchen, did she find the source of the sound.

Tsunade’s back was turned to her, but she could seemingly make out that the woman was gently dicing vegetables from the smell of fresh crops and the knife’s handle that appeared with the swift motions of her right elbow. She watched for a while; unable to notice the fact that she had been gaping for quite some time.

“You know what I’m like about staring, Sakura.”

She jumped slightly, blinking thrice before realising that the voice had come from the said Senju. She tugged at the hem of her nightgown abashedly, her cheeks warming up with clots of flush. Crimson scattered just below her eyes, she looked down in embarrassment.

“Sorry, Shishou.”  
She heard a low hum replying to her apology, as the pinkette walked up towards the oak counter to assist in the morning chore, but as she stood by the woman’s side, the latter paused, shaking her head.

“This is lunch. I will prepare; you’ve just awoken, make yourself something to eat, since today I fear there will be a lot in store for you. If you want, you can occupy the seats in the patio when you’re finished making the meal, and Ino can come over too.”

She nodded obediently, starting back up the stairs. She scrubbed her face clean with the help of buckets of purified water and a lousy yet sustainable flannel. She wrung out all the water and ebbed all the dirt and grime last night had unleashed unto her skin. When she was done she brushed her teeth and lathered her body in a slim coat of cream, then combed her hair well with a bristle brush. It pained her every time, but the results were flawless. 

She gazed into the rectangular glass shard that was portrayed as her mirror, and saw her lotus tufts: they had long surpassed her neck and were sprawled across the tips of her shoulders and their blades. It didn’t vex her as much as she thought it would--most girls in the coven her age had even longer hair stretching to the small of their backs, exert one being the Yamanaka Ino.

Under her makeshift mirror was a wooden cabinet, stored with a myriad of random objects, some she had not even come in contact with; they had been stacked before her years, neatly might I say, and Sakura intended to not disturb the order. She found a slim white string, long enough to encapsulate the bunch her hair made when tied like a bouquet of flowers. She worked quickly, tidily knotting it, her hair becoming wrapped in a loose ponytail. She nodded to herself once before setting to dress.

She donned a simple outfit--one a peasant would wear. But she didn’t care: she was an ever-working sorceress, not a royal courtess. Her bodice slid nicely though her developing curves, fitting her slim form into a nice support for the day. Her pleated skirt lacquered in a lustrous red had flown just right below her knees, finished with a clean apron that only masked the front of her outfit from the waist down. Her top, however, had somewhat vanquished any trace of simplicity her bottom had yet to offer. It was a sable coloured, sewn from the handiwork of strung out cotton, and had a smooth neckline that exposed the brims of her creamy shoulders and collarbone. She would wear a small shawl when the weather would begin to drift to a colder degree.

She made her bed, fluffed the pillows and opened the curtains wide open this time, and thereafter betook herself to the farms and ricefields, cornfields and where all the food was to be kept lest anyone paid heed to it for their own sakes.

She went to the hen’s nest, and under the small shelter she took refuge in for a search, she grabbed four eggs hatched recently for eating. She carefully stowed them in a small basket weaved through seams of worn out bamboo, but still made strong and firm in its use. She already had bread in her possession, for Tsunade had brought some home with her just yesterday, so it wouldn’t be molding until the day after tomorrow, unless it would be preserved with the Senju’s unwavering force. She also recalled the fruitcake leftovers a good neighbour had delivered to them, sitting in the cooler, ready to be consumed. She hoped her mentor would allow such things, she did say she enjoyed the delicacy quite a bit.

Fruits in general were a great way to start the day; hence the pinkette went to grab some. She pondered whether orange juice squeezed freshly out of its segments was a nice addition when suddenly a glimpse of pale golden hair glistening in the sun caught her emerald eye.

“It’s strange to see you here this early in the morning, Pig,”

The woman looked up from the bush she was inspecting, and gave a sly grin when locks of pink caught her eye. She straightened up, tucking away straying strands from her face along with wiping the perspiration that glittered her tanning forehead. She walked closer so that her voice wouldn’t have to be raised.

“And it’s refreshing seeing you here just the same. Tell me, Forehead: what brings you here? And what’s with the eggs? Haven’t you had breakfast yet?”

“I was hoping you hadn’t either…” The Haruno gave a silly pout.

The Yamanaka chuckled, bending down once more to scrutinise the branch of a developing clementine. She opened her mouth, and without looking up from her position, she tilted her head with a statement.

“Honestly I’ve been feeding myself scarcely with these fruits. Would you mind picking me a decent sized orange from your end?”

Sakura gently placed her basket on the soiled ground and began searching. She found a round orange ball with protruding evergreen leaves that smelled just right, and tugged it just hard enough so that the top would rip. She seized the fruit immediately after its liberation, and called out to Ino.

“Here,” she tossed it softly, and the orange landed safely with an echoing splat on the girl’s widespread palm. She unraveled it like a present, until the peel were stacked onto an uneven pile, and the raw inside was ready to devour. She tore a segment from the fruit and plopped it in her mouth without a fuss. The rosette witnessed her chew for a few seconds, before swallowing, and didn’t fail to miss the slight twitch in her left eye--the only eye that she could see.

“Sour?”

“Not exactly,” the girl rasped, clearing her throat for a more lucid stream of voice, “more like...acidic. I’ve never had an orange for breakfast before.”

“Speaking of breakfast,” the carrier was back in Sakura’s hands once more, the handle hung onto her forearm as she held it up playfully,

“Mind joining me? Your parents wouldn’t mind, would they?” she friskily swayed the basket in a mesmerising rhythm, in an attempt to almost tempt the blonde. But temptation wasn’t needed, and they both headed for the place of the pinkette’s dwelling.

::

“Make yourself comfortable, I’ll prepare the food.”

Sakura pulled out an iron chair, hammered and heated until perfectly shaped into place. There were two, sitting adjacent from each other, and masking their seats was a matching table, not wide, but big enough to fit a sufficient amount of plates.

She then took her leave inside her house, her feet slowly taking her to the kitchen. She bestowed her basket onto her wooden carved counter, grabbing her mini charcoal stained cauldron and filling it with a substantial amount of water She set it alongside her eggs and worked her way across the room to the furthest wall. There, curving in and through the wall, was a fireplace, with freshly chopped wood she had sworn had not been sitting blatantly there beforehand. She smiled; Tsunade must have done the small task before setting off. She absentmindedly thanked the woman mentally, before creating some friction to ignite a yellow flame. It steadily burned, eating away at the tree chops, steadily growing in size, it’s ashy, sulfurous scent emitting from it all, gallivanting around the room in long stripes of smoke. It wasn’t too hazardous, as Sakura had been taught how to control it, so she waited just a bit before grabbing a hook stand and placing the small caudron on it, ready to cook.

As the water inside began to undulate and ripple with bursting bubbles of boiling temperature, she decided to pop two eggs inside. The bounced with a pop as they fell into the pot, and merely floated atop a set of spuming heat. Leaving those to poach, she took the liberty of taking out a loaf of wheat bread and slicing two thick parts, just enough to not struggle to bite. She placed them on unpainted clay plates. She also squared two clean cuts of fruitcake, and set them beside the bread. She looked out towards the patio, where Ino was, surprisingly, patiently waiting.

“Would you like water or juice, Pig?” she lowly called from her place. When she heard a tiny ‘water’ from outside, she nodded to herself and poured two cups. When about five minute had passed, she put out the fire, and taking by the handle she set the cauldron down on a heat proof surface. She cautiously ladled out the eggs into a separate bowl, and from them drenched the protein in cold water until they were mildly warm. She proceeded to peel them, careful not to break their whites. She put one on each plate, and now that breakfast was fully prepared she took it all outside.

“Ah, I swear you’ve been at it for almost an hour. I was starting to think you were gonna burn something,”

Sakura served the blonde her plate full of delicacies.

“Funny, Pig. No wonder you’re such a hog.”

She made herself comfortable in the chair opposite the Yamanaka, whilst the gentle breeze sang chilly whispers in the dewy early morning, two friends delightfully dug in for breakfast.

::

“I still can’t believe you’re going to be sixteen next month. I heard from papa that you were thinking of travelling the moment your ritual is done,” the pinkette watched as Ino tore a small piece of her bread, and with her boiled egg ripped open, it’s runny, gooey yolk scattered across the side of her plate, she smoothed her piece along the thick canary liquid, picking up the contents then placing it carefully onto her tongue.

She didn’t know how to respond to her friend’s statement; well, she predominantly didn’t have too--it was merely a statement after all. A declarative at most. But she was drawn to the way there was a small lilt in her voice, almost as if she were mourning the absence of her own presence already. She smiled sadly, fiddling with her finger in her lap. They both knew she wanted to go--to explore what lay further than the sea of evergreen trees that was the forest of Konoha. To watch clearly the horizon bring forth the sun, and lift up the pale moon. She wanted to see faces other than those of the Konoha Coven, new faces that she may encounter for a brief period of time, or perhaps a thousand lifetimes.

She wanted to go, and it was time. She was adamant in her decision, and Tsunade had in no manner said anything to defy that wish, and so, silently and secretly, it was granted. At dawn on the twenty-eighth day in March, Haruno Sakura would be assumed to step foot out of the Konoha Forest, with maybe the possibility of no expected return.

“Y-Yeah…” she meekly replied, twisting the hem of her skirt between her fingers.

“Make sure to be careful out there, okay? Eat and drink well, keep a good sleeping schedule, and-” the rosette heard a small swallow, and she knew it wasn’t from the food.

“Don’t get attached to the humans.”

::

Sakura had been told one too many times a story about such beings when she was at a more tender age. They were said to be ruthless and persistently daunting on a sorceress such as herself, but kind and caring to their own kind. She found it quite inequitable now, but she was never fully told the reason for the friction between the two, and why they loathe each other greatly. It had been said though that some witches and warlocks astoundingly live amongst such creatures in a guise, masked in a facade that everyone around them would think them to be human. Some had survived living in such perilous conditions (perilous due to the fact that they could be revealed at any moment).

While others were not as fortunate.

She’d read about it a myriad of times, some being scripted accounts from witnesses stroked through parched pages in thick ebony ink, others written in accordance to those who paid heed to the observers. Each sent thrilling chills down her spine. From varying to being hanged to burning at the stake whilst being put in front of crowds as an addition of public humiliation, Sakura hadn’t found too many strange punishments. What she did know is that all of them had cost her kind their demise, and it was never a peaceful one.

Her stomach suddenly pooled, as if it had been bubbling with molten lava. She daintily picked a nimble of her fruitcake, trying to gulp down the hardened lump forming at the base of her oesophagus. She was torn from her string of thoughts when she heard Ino call her name once more.

“You spaced out,” she chomped nonchalantly, shrugging. She understood what was going through the Haruno’s mind--she knew it well, but she didn’t have the right words to encourage her to not be terrified of the unfathomable. She herself had never had the thought of departing from the Konoha Coven, yet she paid no heed in dragging the pinkette’s mind to hers. They were friends, simply with different goals.

“I wonder, how did Tsunade-sama take it? When you wanted to leave?”

Sakura munched pensively on the remnants of her slice, thickened with oozing embryo. She sprawled her memories onto a blank page, searching for the right one to pick up. Then, it came.

A cold, bitter night with yellow flames tossing in their wicks as the two women were eating dinner. She remembered her past self feeling nervous, and when she was nervous she would become fidgety. Her hands curled slightly at the thought of having to suppress being all twitchy, her bottom lip grazed with her two front teeth, bearing blood at the tip; she remembered biting it hard.

It was without warning when she said it. Tsunade was ladling herself some creamy soup--it had been mixed with a chopped hare and some meagre veggies, she couldn’t remember precisely, and when she further announced that she wanted to leave, she remembered the loud clang from the utensil being dropped that resonated through the newly present silence.

“She was...shocked, to say the least. It kinda wound her up for a minute or two, I had to calm her down,” she breathed, placing her head in her small palm.”

It was true. The said Senju wasn’t exactly angry, which, thinking now, was quite pleasant, but she was shocked. Her hazel eyes dilated with surprise and incoherent sounds tumbled out of her gaping lip, not knowing what to say. The rest of the conversation was a blur, but the woman eventually calmed down, and accepted her inquest. 

“Ah, it’s no fair, having Tsunade-sama as a parental figure,” Ino leaned back, holding the back of her head with her folded arms. Sakura quirked a pink brow. She heard a sigh from the Yamanaka, and she rolled her eyes.

“My parents wouldn’t even let me go further than the strawberry fields, who’s to say they would even let me out of the woods?”

They both took that as an opportunity to laugh, clearing the tense air that had swayed forth from the start of the conversation.

::

The Haruno watched golden locks flow further away from her as the girl walked away from the precipice, going to tend to her chores once more. 

She made herself useful once more, setting off to where her mentor would be situated.

::

“Come in.”

Sakura entered one of the brewing rooms, and she held in her sneeze. It smelt dusty, almost dirty as a small bubbling sound filled the air. She watched as Tsunade, who had not looked up since, drew forth her staff, which she had shrunken for good measure, and dipped its ever glowing amber through the glimmering mix, and slowly stirred.

The pinkette could not decide whether the liquid held in the large cauldron was hot or cold, as both could sometimes emit such thick blows of steam. And there it was, clouding about a mix of green. The room itself was dark, painted with grave washes of black, and the windows were stained and frosted; no one could see inside or out. The walls were surrounded by desks adorned in herbs and small mixtures, and bookshelves, stacked to the brim with accounts of hypotheses, or recipe books. Some threatened to slide off and fall.

“I have just finished with Ino, Shishou. What shall I do today?” she bowed reverently. She knew not to heavily disturb the Senju’s presence at the current time, for she needed her attention undivided onto her pot, lest an explosion occurred if she made a wrong move. It took her approximately a minute to respond. She took her rod out, examined its gemstone like a fine tooth comb, not daring to touch it, but placing her nose just a few inches away from the empowered object. She spun it downwards once more, and gently placed it onto an old worn out cloth.

“You may attend the library to study, then once noon approaches, see Shizune for some scrolls to work on. You’ll be needing some work on your pronunciation, you will need it crisp and precise by the night fall of the eve of your birthday.”

Sakura knew that Tsunade cared. Her words pricked like the needle of a spinning wheel, but they were not as grim as what met the eye. Whilst, yes, clearly venom sweetly dripped out of the corners of her mouth, the Senju woman was merely just a professional lady, and preferred to keep her softer, more mellow side behind closed walls. She wasn’t particularly a morning person either, so quick lunches together or dinner in general was a pleasant moment they both had to share everyday.

The pinkette realised their endeavours would have to halt very soon. She took a gulp, and, clearing her throat, twisted her heel and started for the rotting wood door, that would forever smell of damp timber, with a coating of ashy sprays and peppermint.

::

Studying had gone on longer than she had hoped, and it further brought her to the chambers of Kato, where they stored and preserved, meticulously handcrafted, a selection of scrolls from A to Z. The room where they were all stored was almost like a dining hall, wherein each delicate step the rosette would proceed to take resulted in a clank padding that echoes throughout the hollowed area. She came to encounter the familiar dark haired woman with hair just shorter than a bob, and determined eyes that reminded her of Tsunade herself.

“Shizune-san,” she greeted with a curt bow, her eyes closed; her lids faced the floor. Her blossom strands tickled her chin for the sufficient amount of seconds she was bent over but quickly collected when she stood up once more.

“Ah, Sakura. I’ve been expecting you. Tsunade-sama tells me you’re here to revise? What would you like to read?”

::

She started off easy. She picked up a scroll on genjutsu, then sitting down on one of the reading tables, an oil lamp lit ablaze for proper sight sitting at her side, she sprawled the yellow, old text across the table. She read the words, not casting any chakra onto it. Frankly, she had never casted chakra on her spell before, because it was suppressed, All chakra-bearing creatures were like that until a certain period of time. Hers just happened to be occurring the following month.

“Verum muto…” 

She may have muttered it ever so softly, but the zephyr carried it to the Kato woman’s ears. Sakura had said the incantation exactly how it was spelt.

“You’re forgetting the way the ‘v’ works, dear.”

She mentally cursed herself, slightly wincing at the small lecture. She had let it quickly slip off her mind in the heat of the moment. She tried again.

“Verum muto,” she said, louder than before, but instead pronouncing her ‘v’ as a ‘w’, as her mentor had always instructed her to.

::

That night, Sakura could only gaze; gape at the winking starlight, the cold, numbing air that surrounded the leaves of Konoha’s forests. And the trees that dwelled. She wanted, more than ever, to look past those trees, and see the world, the meeting of the sea and sky; its horizon, she wanted to witness it all. She saw the clouding streaks of orange and purple merging together to make ethereal scenery. It took her breath away. She pulled her curtains to a close, like she did on all the nights the temptation to seek and find became insatiable. She sighed, and pulled her covers over her once again lulling herself into a drifting, peaceful slumber.

::

Although poised with elegance and high structure, Sasuke’s cold, lashing demeanour was uncommonly prominent this day. But he decided to spend his monotonous hours cooped up in the room that had belonged to his mother. He did remember her sharing a bed with his father, but this was specifically her chamber, her hidden wing and in his opinion, he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wouldn’t want the cozy, homey aura of his late maternal parent be overshadowed by cold, thick air that tensed through the room, which would heavily remind him of his late paternal parent. He sighed, picking up a small picture framed with a light painting of her. It was one of the very few things he could grasp onto, depend on for the memories they shared.

Her hair was stroked like sable strands of silk, her skin fair, pale and smooth, and her soft onyx eyes glittered with a sense of fervour the artist was willing to catch. She would have notebooks at which she wrote about her daily escapades, and he, in a shocking but relieving sense, came to the revelation that most of the information implanted into those pages with her neatly primmed strokes was moments of him, and his brother.

His brother.

His grip on the frame instinctively tightened, until he realised it was on the verge of cracking. He laid it down, the backside facing up so that one, he wouldn’t cause any more damage to something so precious, and two,

He could fully ignore the agonising ache that swelled his heart to the brim.

His eyes had softened, being in such a nostalgic room, but the creased lines residing on his forehead inherited from his father were yet to remain.

:::

[End of Chapter]

Hey! So, it’s been a while. I hope you enjoyed this update, and if you would like to know a bit about my update schedule, I’ll be aiming to update once a month, so please bear with me XD.

As for those who have been reading Alphabetical Order, well I’m sorry to break this to you, but I will not be continuing it. I cannot say I have the best reason for it, but I am putting it on an indefinite hiatus. Thanks for understanding. What I will do, though, for the people who really wanna know the plot, is that I will post it on my tags book. So I guess I made a little compromise, huh?

See you all soon,

-a writer.


	3. :two:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimers:  
> -Dedicated to Julia, otherwise known as @Silverwolf735  
> -I do not own the Naruto franchise, all credit goes to Masashi Kishimoto  
> -This chapter is mostly about Sasuke, enjoy!
> 
> Visual commentary and less important notes will be situated at the end of this chapter

“Eye of newt, and toe of frog,  
Wool of bat, and tongue of dog,  
Adder's fork, and blind-worm's sting,  
Lizard's leg, and owlet's wing,—  
For a charm of powerful trouble,  
Like a hell-broth boil and bubble.  
Double, double toil and trouble;  
Fire burn, and caldron bubble.”  
― William Shakespeare

_______

Thick, reeling streams of flames crackled through the cemented surface of the kiln, dancing tangos of red and yellow, producing shimmers of orange through the process. Flickering alight, she watched, examined how frisk yet gentle they could be. Many said fire and water clashed greatly, but she thought otherwise. Both could be just as suave as the other, the rumbling waves undulating with grace as they frollocked to shores and back, and exert two right here, twisting and flowing with bursting light. The heat radiated through to her eyes, and that’s when she knew the heat was precise.

She had been out, tending to her duties like the refined witch she had become. Brows laced with sweat and hands uncommonly soiled had proven her commitment to her daily chores. Most of them were quite domestic, they weren’t really an avid coven, Konoha, but she didn’t care. It was better than what she had been used to, anyway.

This time, she was helping out with the food supply. Some of it had fallen short, thanks to serving a ritual of another witch who had approached the ripe age of sixteen; the ceremony covered most of the night. The witches and warlocks were thereafter given a days rest after, but now time stroked back to normal and everyone had resumed their daily errands.

She had been to the farm, gingerly wrung out the milk from its (that of a goat's) udders, carrying it in her rusting bucket to the main house beside it, used for cooking and preparing the food from where the barn was situated. She had set her small cauldron up, and took three cheese cloths, aligning them to the surface of the pot. She meticulously poured the said liquid through, and then tied the material tight , squeezing out milky residue in the process. The pearly contents flung onto her apron, staining it slightly; she didn’t mind.

She filled the cauldron with heated water, and let the cheese mix sit there to mould. She had just shaped it and cut it to thick triangular slices, like that of a cake. She sprinkled tarragon, hoping the herb would accelerate the taste of the richness. And now we bring ourselves to said present, as she awaited her kiln to heat up just right.

She plucked each piece and sprawled them onto a clay tray, and pushed it in, far enough for the cheese to reach the flames.

The fire seemed to appreciate the gesture. It seemed as if it were twisting faster, jerking quicker and flickering higher to touch the flat back of the tray, grazing their agile arms against the dried clay, engulfing the material with balls of heat. 

Something about it seemed wrong, odd, may it be. But it was certainly strange. She peeked further into the kiln, as far as the globes of onyx resting below her dark lashes could witness. As each second passed, the fire seemed to grow huger, faster, like a spreading forest fire. Their dances were endless, like a raging storm bequeathed onto piles of wood and coal. Her eyes glistened and her forehead shimmered with a glaze of sweat as she observed, mesmerised.

It only until a streak of fire flinched out towards her and--

Tsunade woke up with a startling breath, shaking and awashed with perspiration as she struck chills of cold in her bed. She panted, hard, pulling a palm to her forehead as she attempted to regain her resting pulse, pulling her lids to a close to not focus on anything other than her gasping and heaving chest. It was not more than a minute that she fully calmed down, fully returning to consciousness in the process.

The pale moonlight captured her features in small kisses, drawing streaks of silver across the side of her whitened features that glistened. She looked like a pearl.

Her feet slowly dragged her out of bed, going down stairs to fetch herself a mug of cold water. She sipped daintily, the chilly liquid cascading through her body, making her feel a little bit better. Her flaxen tufts, now frizzy and more framing of her face, made work in patching up her cheeks, sticking to her skin like magnets. She brushed and peeled them off with her fingers, her nose slightly scrunching at the almost bristling feeling.

She took a step outside, feeling the cold zephyr caress her. She looked up to see the serene waning crescent, and sighed solemnly, her eyes promising sadness and her brows furrowing with worry.

“How are you, Mikoto?”

::

Sasuke gasped, feeling chills of silver wrung quickly down his spine. He jolted up from his pillows, and was easily met with cold, for the absence of thick duvets brought only icicles of terror. He shook gently, attempting to swallow the surfacing lump at the pit of his throat, stabilising his trembling breath and paled lips.

Dark strands clung to the back of his neck uncomfortably as he brought a palm to cover half of his features, leaning into that, holding himself to that to ensure he was, once more, stung back to the cloudy, misty grounds of reality. He felt frosty, but made no move to pull up his covers, and instead opted to face the moon. The white, cratered, gleaming moon that seemed to feel warm, warm like his mother’s smile. Her smile made the lamps in the room dance and shine, and made just about anything a tincey bit more content. His lips slowly pulled upwards at the memory, but instantly dropped at the fact that we would be unable to witness those small exchanges she had exhibited in his tender years.

He hissed, wind whistling through the gaps of his teeth as he frowned, looking at the emptiness of his lap. He knew what happened, he remembered what happened.

In the dream, that is.

He found himself amazed at his vulnerable state, as his consciousness had not been pulled into that of a nightmare; rather, it was something quite...domestic, shall he say. Something that people would consider boring. But he knew, things he probably wouldn’t have depicted at all...lest his imagination arose. But--was it really his imagination?

Did he know he was looking through the eyes of a woman his age? A woman with eyes just like his own, sharp, yet soft, and blooming with stygian black globes? A woman with silky, thick locks straight and neatly primmed, falling just below her shoulder blades? A woman he may know, but would not have known at the time? Was he even alive at the time?

A woman making cheese from the goat was certainly an eccentric excuse to be a nightmare compared to all the others he’d had before, and he almost shuddered at the mere thought. He looked at the palm holding against the left side of his face, scrutinising it like a fine tooth comb. He flipped it over, scanning the outer side of his digits as well, which was now dampened with his sweat, but he didn’t care about such trivial matters right then and there. What he was doing, however, was questioning his sanity, and whether that...vision? Dream? Nightmare? Whatever the hell it was, he pondered if it was a sign, a signal that he should very warily look in to. But he came to a pause, letting his eyes flutter to a close, his face finally peaceful, and slowly drifted off, just as the moon started to wane its cycle. He’d hope (beg) that this would be long forgotten by the time the roosters would cry, and that it would not bug him for what would appear to be eternity. But, he knew deep inside, that it wasn’t the last of what was to come.

::

He didn’t sleep much after, to say the least. He pulled on a loose cotton blouse and dark oak stained trousers and decided to step foot into the castle’s endless garden acres, watching the sun slowly peak from the horizon, its blazing heat brought forth spiraling swirls of orange and purple. Ethereal, really, he silently thought as he took pride in his steady strides, willing himself further and further along the grassy, dewy grounds. His eyes, now brimmed with fatigue and listless thinking, developed drak, dragging bags that drowned underneath his rosy waterlines, creating a more pulling look to his creamy cheeks.

He was about to count his steps further onwards, when a booming voice nearly scared him out of his skin.

“Teme! Oi, what are you doing out here so early, Bastard?!”

The ravenette didn’t need to turn around to see the wide grin that flashed across the blonde’s face, lightening up his features, accentuating the glow in his cerulean eyes. He nearly rolled his own orbs, sighing in discontentment as another day of his life would now be spent gallivanting with the damned Uzumaki.

“What do you want, Dobe?” he lazily dragged his head to the side to face him slightly, his sluggish body posture already exhibiting the aura of not wanting anyone’s company. It was always him though--always him to break through the tiniest of cracks Sasuke had built with his ever-growing walls, crashing through to pull him out of his reveries. On events, he would be eternally grateful, but on others, not. This time, it would certainly be the latter.

He scowled deeply, an emotion alike to pain flashed across his handsome features like a lightning bolt, but uncommonly, the blonde was never fazed by it--he simply laughed.

“Woke up on the wrong side of the bed, eh? Or--let me guess-- that fifty metre stick pushed up an extra centimetre in that ass of yours,” he joked.

Sasuke wasn’t taking any of it, but decided on just giving him daggers through stone cold eyes of onyx. Nevertheless, the gentlemen both wander through, passing the implanted fir trees, walking in silence, with only the twigging sounds of their padding footsteps sounding their tangibility.

“I know something’s up, y’know,” Naruto kicked a pebble to the side, watching the small stone fly a few inches before crashing to a ground of mud and specs of green. He didn’t dare look the Uchiha in the eye, he just let the small statement hang lowly in the air, his whisper blended in with the whistling of the wind, and the raspy rustles of the wilting deciduous leaves, drying a crunchy rouge.

“You can tell me what it is, dattebayo.”

“Nothing’s wrong, Naruto.” He sighed. But both of them knew the aforementioned wouldn’t buy it. He was dumb, yes, filled with the mind of a fool, yet somehow, in whatever dexterous way he could, he was able to decipher Sasuke’s mind, bit by bit, slowly etching to the fact that sometimes he was even better than the boy himself at reading his feelings. Indubitably, it vexed him beyond measure.

The Uzumaki let him be for a bit, allowing him to collect his thoughts and not have them spin in kaleidoscope motion around his head, time to adjust himself. When he saw the raven walking out while the sky was still stained with nuances of pink, he was surprised to say the least.

His hair was unkempt, and he hadn't bothered to do the loose buttons on his baggy blouse, despite the seasonal winter chills. Something was definitely wrong in that picture.

Slowly, the sun had climbed it's way through to be seen fully again, signifying the brand new day ahead. The sky muted back to it's crystal colour, and soft cloud waved around, heaving small signs that rain wouldn't threat to fall that day.

The trees danced lowly, their leaves gossiping evidently with delight as the two gentlemen rounded more of the castle grounds.

::

"A dream," he quietly whispered, finally permitting himself to make his thoughts known. He didn't dare look beside him, he kept his neck craned down and his eyes glued to the reaching grass that barely grazed his ankles.

Naruto stared at him, waiting for elaboration. Sasuke wasn't a person to be taken lightly— he'd known that over the years of companionship with said male. With an exasperated sigh, he flung his hands to cross the back of his head, supporting the weight as he puffed out his chest, his strides looking prouder, lion-like even.

"What kind of dream, 'ttebayo?"

The Uchiha looked up. He found himself pondering on how to word it, for one he was not a man of words, his actions rather had brought the better of him in most cases.

But there was no way of putting forth actions to describe it— it was a dream. A stealthy one, a normal one. Something domestic, a chore of some sort.

And yet that sincere movement is what scared him the most.

"I dreamed of being put in someone else's perspective," he swallowed, his voice thick with tension.

"And though i never looked in any reflective surface of some sort, I seemed to...I knew that person— she had eyes charcoaled, strewn with black shards. Mine alike."

"You knew it was a lady?"

He sluggishly nodded— it was all coming back to him now. He looked for proof on his hands, his long, sable digits, seeing if he would tremble or not. But he was in the clear: all was steady.

"She was a pauper. Her surroundings proved that fact. She was...she was making something--goat's cheese perhaps-- and putting her slices in the kiln. But the kiln seemed to eat at whatever it had, and it seemed to have lashed out at me—her," he cleared his throat, frowning deeply at his own statements,"I woke up before I could witness the aftermath."

It was then Naruto acknowledged that would be the end of him speaking long, luscious paragraphs, and yet, he knew his short interjections would have to do.

"Hey," he said. He heard a low hum, his signature 'hn', and the former resisted a snort.

"You said the lady had black features, you mean like yours?"

It took a couple of seconds to register, but the more the raven processed it, the more he believed it. And found it impossible at the same time. He nodded once more in slight agreement.

"Have you ever considered that woman to be your mother?"

::

Uchiha Sasuke was glad to have someone like Uzumaki Naruto, although being as aloof and imbecilic as the latter, he was also understanding in his situation. 

Both had their parents killed.

And although Naruto knew of his experiences and what had happened all those years ago, he didn't know a single thing about the blonde. But he also understood that it wasn't the trust that had wavered for him to talk,

it was time.

Something he may never have enough to wait to hear that story.

He showered, and reapplied clean, regal clothes, throwing his heavy cloak over his shoulders, feeling not even a bit heavy as to the burden he had to carry since he was seven. Nothing could compete to such extents.

He stared out to the wide landscape of Konoha— every house, villager and every acre, all of that was in his possession. And he swore, on his mother's grave, that he would protect it with his life.

Guard it from the mutiny that was his brother, the catalyst of his agony, and the close abiding deadly threat.

witches and warlocks.

______________________

hi! how is everyone? I know this chapter is a little short, I kinda don't like it that much haha.

Thanks so much for reading, though. I hope you enjoyed it :)

Shout out to my beta Julia for proof reading this, ily <3

and I'll see you all soon!

votes, comments/ review would be much appreciated!!!

-writer.


	4. :three:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimers:  
> -Dedicated to Julia/ Silverwolf735  
> -I do not own any of the Naruto franchise, all credit goes to Masashi Kishimoto  
> -More informal notes will be situated at the end of this chapter
> 
> Enjoy!

It is the unknown that excites the ardor of scholars, who, in the known alone, would shrivel up with boredom.  
-Wallace Stevens  
\------------------  
“It really is an honour to do this, you know,”  
Ino lathered her hands in rich, creamy serums to cleanse her digits, minutes prior washing them clean in water and drying them with a neat rag. She scrubbed generously across her skin, scrutinising the plain pinkette that sat obediently before her, hands held closely in her lap, a myriad of thoughts crossing her mind on whatever to do with the said girl. She hummed lowly, blonde brows knitting in concentration, precision crossing her mind in seaming hatches. She took her index fingers and thumbs and created the scene of a picture between her pale hands, switching portrait to landscape, picturing her close friend in many different styles, each resulting in the Haruno looking absolutely breathtaking. She sloppily grinned, her tongue peaking out of the right corner of her lips; she was utterly excited, and yet terrified at the same time.

Senju Tsunade had entrusted her with the looks of her daughter-figure. There was no question she would push her limits just to add the extra effort in for Sakura. There was nothing she wouldn’t do for her, nonetheless. Having the decency and poise for such a role, Ino felt such gratitude, she almost shed tears towards the news. She knew this event would momentarily approach, but since the morning of their breakfast, resting on the patio and chatting hour’s talk within just a few minutes, the days seemed to fly faster than an icarus soaring towards the sun.

And now, now was the day she would have to bear the worry of saying goodbye. Of letting go of a rope she had been tugging on for so long, only to realise her attempts at keeping the tide at bay were futile-- Sakura’s dreams and pursuits were not one for her to interfere, and she would certainly not object to crushing her faith in the world outside the trees that had shielded their forms for so long. She wasn’t so cruel as to drag the pinkette’s mind back to her own ground, for although their opinions on what they would serve to do in the adult world would forever remain sparse, she would also forever support the decisions that would take place in her mind. And vice versa. That, along with others, was one strong thread that had sewn Ino a scarf of belief that Sakura would keep strong and firm, would never falter, and would step up as her identity as a witch. She may have to mask that fact in return of unpromised safety, but there would always be that place in her heart that wouldn’t deny herself of her person. Of her lineage.

“What mood are you feeling right now, Forehead?”

Crystal orbs witnessed emerald globes gleam with calculation, trying to discern her pooling emotions balling up in her stomach.

::

Haruno Sakura had waited years for this-- a decade at most. She had always dreamed of being able to step out between the last two wooden pillars that were the trees that loomed over the warlocks and sorceresses that took residence in said place. There was yet so much to be processed, and yet all she could focus on was the way the Yamanaka’s eyes were trailing over her features, searching like a fine tooth comb, in preparation for the ceremony that was to take place hours after this. She pressed her rosy lips in a thin line, her legs begging to move--to jiggle-- for she was anxious. Never in her life would she imagine to have gotten this far.

The biggest stepping stone prior to this was to convince Shishou to agree with her risky plans. With the way the coven was run, no one expected her to be crowned the Senju’s successor, for bloodline wasn’t accounted for.

Even with the given circumstances-- the two females were not blood related.

With a sharp intake of breath, Sakura stared into the small mirror that sat at her side, portraying her reflection. Her seafoam eyes glistened with a sense of fierceness she had never thought she could exhibit. She searched, her calculating expression causing her brows to furrow, to find the features she had developed through her late mother.

Of course, the colour of her orbs was a definite fact; through her mentor’s words and rutting, few paintings she had of her, she was able to make out the distinct similarities they both shared. Hers just was a tad lighter, and along with portraying the colour of the evergreen lush shades of the forest, she also had the vision of spring splayed like cataracts across her promising eyes. A sign of hope, a sign of happiness.

“What would you do if you were here, mama…” she lowly whispered, burying her head in thick strands of her rose tufts, her features swelling downwards.

“Did you say something, Sakura?”

“No,” she jumped at the presence of Ino, forgetting she was also in the room. She smiled and shrugged her shoulders to prove her case.

“I have the perfect look for you Forehead. Just you wait!”

As the blonde dressed and primmed her, she wondered if a talk with Tsunade would help to understand her mother further.

::

She was never used to wearing such a thick, sprawling gown, but here she was, staring at the person in her reflection-- proud and determined.

Ino really had worked her magic to the fullest potential; she really did look gorgeous.

She wore a white, puffed-sleeved shemise decorated with lace at the cuffs, and around her waist sat a hip pad, tied securely to later on serve the purpose of keeping her petticoats upright and voluptuous. She wore two layers of thick duvets, pleated at her backside hip and profound in accentuating her growing curves. They were both coloured a dark, mesmerising red that gave more life to her softer features, such as her lotus locks.

Her bodice was black, but her stomacher a shade lighter than to what her skirt was. The ribbons laced soothingly around alternate holes, fastening her chest tight. A shawl was twisted modestly over her shoulders to mask her bare, creamy skin, and her legs were covered with stockings, held in place with a simple lace garter. Her leather shoes had a clinky heel to them, which made her an inch taller. She felt as if she had moved up in the world.

Her locks had been braided neatly and swirled into an uptied bun, some strands decorating her face with pink curls. They were decorated with crimson ribbons and her namesake-- artificial ones, that is, Tsunade carefully crafted them for the purpose of adding to her outfit. She looked ethereal, a goddess put forth as the wielder of beauty, and once the moon had arrived to witness her, it was as if she overshadowed the face of light itself, creating merely a substance of glimmer to her rich luminous figure.

Tsunade paid her a visit, later on, when her errands had been fulfilled and she had made sure that everything was in order and in serenity’s embrace had she finally had the time to approach the dear girl. She found her sitting down on the dining table, her usual seat occupied as per usual, but for whatever reason, she looked so small, so frail and fragile, so vulnerable in that moment, that it seemed she was about to break. Her shoulders hung lowly, her head tipped down, her pale, gloved hands sitting perfectly in the centre of her lap.

“Sakura? Is anything the matter?”

She sprung up, like a late flower in Spring, her green orbs encased with gleaming surprise, but she instantly retained her posture once she had a hold of the person in the room.

“S-Shishou,” she greeted, a sense of flustered manner bestowed within her. A tinge of pink dissipated across her face.

“I was only deep in thought, I didn’t mean to stir any worry.”

The elder woman came towards her, prodding the youth to retreat back to her chair. She gazed upon the young lady with fine pride, studying her features, seeing her here was a reminder that an old friend was still by her side, and had entrusted her with the greatest gift she could ever give.

“If I may, would you tell me what’s plaguing your mind, dear?”

It was without hesitation that she spoke, her tone filled with the strength of a rock as she looked at her mentor directly in the eye.

“My mother. What would she have thought?”

::

She was old enough to handle it-- the both of them had acknowledged that fact, Sakura taking advantage of the situation, and therefore having the upper hand. All that was said was needed to be declared, and she had been given her answers. It was then that the Haruno felt truly prepared to take part in her ritual.

::

The ceremony commenced the moment the hand stroke it’s twentieth chime, where as Sakura stood on a marble podium enlarged for a huge cauldron, bubbling with excitement and steaming with delight, and the Mistress herself, the one entirely building the future of the pinkette at that current moment. Everyone from the coven had hurried to observe such an illustrious event, one that such would fill the night entirely with gossip and chatter, small grins of revelation or astounded faces with no other way to convey their reaction.

Whatever it was, all present of the ceremony knew that Haruno Sakura was about to be crowned her jewel, her birthright, the precise channeling of her chakra. She was about to receive it-- all in her very possession, and fret not, for she wasn’t as nervous as what one would have expected. Here she was, being granted permission to finally use her energy fully for the good of the world. There was nothing more she wanted to do, anyway.

Other than step outside the barrier of woodland to discover things beyond her own measure, places she would have only befallen in dreams.

“Haruno Sakura,” the deep voice boomed before her, yet it only made her stand taller before her mother figure, proud and prepared to cross a new bridge in her life.

“Shishou,” she nodded firmly, knowing this and a couple more times into the night will most probably be the last time she could call that name before she would wander off to her own devices.

“The moon is full; your time is nigh.”

She held her subtle breath as she made her way towards the erupting pot, gleaming under the moonlight. She pulled her lids to a close, focusing on every ounce of what she had been taught over the years, days of pouring her heart and soul into her studies flashing before her, memory by memory, as she recollected what she had garnered through the assistance of the dear Senju. Her right hand stretched out, merely feeling the course of ripples dancing through the spherical large sustainer.

Allow yourself to release chakra onto it, Sakura. You will know you have done enough when you will feel an equal amount of force thrusting towards your palm. Do not stop your motions, or rather fear it; you must persevere until the ritual is done. I highly believe in your capability. 

Do it.

She could hear that strong, booming voice coaxing her, drumming through her like a streak of lightning, empowering her. She slowly let loose, feeling cold, energetic waves course through her veins and release through the centre of her palm. Through the darkness of her shielding lids she could feel a glint of blue being lit ablaze as she did so, proving that she was indeed exhibiting her energy towards the concoction. She had never gotten enough time to study the ingredients laden within the black tub, but she knew its purpose. Tsunade had bestowed a specific spell to help conjure her birthright-- birthstone that would have best suited her, something she would eternally have, that would be in her possession only.

Steadily, she felt something intangible begin to plow through to her. It wasn’t as strong as the force she had been applying, but something told her it would gradually increase, so she strengthened her pose and focused more on the task at hand. Being put in a silent crowd of spectators was a little overwhelming, however the process of the ritual alone was not a prospect that daunted her predominantly.

She reached the pinnacle of her strength, and under the moon’s supervision, a bright, warm, glowing emerald ascended in front of her, blinding the crowds with its awesome wonder. She became mesmerised by it; the stone the length of her hand, but she knew not to touch it-- not at that very moment. 

But soon.

She stared at it, floating stationary in the air, her small mouth hung agape at it. She could feel energy of her own adorning such a green crystal, unbeknownst to her, the jewel created a beacon of light shedding flecks of green against her already beaming orbs, unintentionally making them shine with further fervour. 

Her palm hovered over it, her body drew closer and closer, until the cauldron was the only obstacle that prevented her front standing right next to it. Her index, timid and slightly trembling from use of chakra, touched the surface of the jewel. She hadn’t expected anything, it’s rigid layers crumpled, yet the centre smooth, its opaque rocky form provided something cool to touch; her brow marred slightly-- twitching at most-- as her fingers traced the vertices of the object.

From behind her, she couldn’t see the soft smile Tsunade had given her as she watched the said girl inspect her birthright. The blonde woman looked to the crowd, and giving a firm nod, they began to shatter the silence brought forth for the prior concentration needed, and rather, the palace was now filled with clamour. It sent jolts of merriment through her, and tears stung lovingly at her eyes. 

Sixteen years...sixteen years was the amount of time she had been able to keep her sheltered. Now, she would have to heavily grasp onto the mere hours she had left, feeling the girl already slipping from her fingers like an hourglass, a loose thread through a sewing needle. She’d done her part, and well, for most could see the lovely young lady Sakura had blossomed to be, but she saw it coming that it was only a matter of time before her mind would drift to higher lights, to things beyond her knowledge. With a mind like her mother’s, that wasn’t hard to gather.

So when a reception had begun, she sat herself further from view of the most part, sipping daintily on a bottle of fine sake, the rice wine tickling the inside of her throat and burning with utmost force, but she paid no heed to it. She’d done her part, the upbringing of a daughter that was not hers, but would always be regarded as one, but she felt as if she hadn’t done enough. She wanted to scourge all she could from the night, but as well as it being young, time flew quickly. Her head spun with the possible outcomes of approaching her. It was most likely that she was speaking with friends one last time, and it wouldn’t seem right to disturb her, but at the same time…

She sighed, a puff of steam emitted into the fresh cold night air, deciding her next taste of sake would be a heavy swig, the juice coating her mouth as she did so. She swallowed bitterly, her tongue clicking in hardness as she squinted to the sky. The winking stars were not so prominent this night as they had been others, but she took it as a sign for a specific pinkette to have shone the brightest out of all, and she left it at that.

She remembered a day similar to this, when she received her stone. She quickly found a strong bamboo stick to wind around it, to protect it, steady and firm, such as herself. Her mood and burdens lifted at that. Her youth had long gone and surpassed her, she knew that, but she was also the last of her time, at least, to her. There had been no need to talk of such trivial needs alike to her younger days. She combed stray tufts of her locks that tickled her face, gently tucking them back, and then in a weak attempt she tried to find locks of pink in the crowds of celebrating people.

She was so weary that she didn’t see the ravenette that slowly approached her.

::

The breath was knocked out cold from the pinkette when she observed the huge palace of foods and tables set out before them invitingly, warmly, prodding everyone to take a share.

There were tables, covered with cream linen cloths, surrounding the expected perimeter, as it was all open air, the event. And on those tables sat platters of hot, mouth watering dishes that sent strings of steam into the night air, lapping enticingly for consumers. There were oil lamps too, to keep the evening bright and warm for everyone to sit around and just talk. It was all so comforting, especially as she knew it would be the last in a while that she could sit down and let all her worries waft away with the nightly breeze, laughing and talking with the dearest people cherished in her beating heart.

She was sixteen years of age, and yet she still felt like a small child, not ready to let go of the hand of the ones she trusted most, tender and helpless. But she would not permit anyone to see her that way. She would remain sturdy until time’s end. She felt a light feathery touch on her almost bare left shoulder, heat resonating between the two. There, she turned around to meet sky blue eyes gleaming with such happiness that coaxed her to smile as much back.

“So, how’s it feel to be sixteen?”

The Yamanaka had found the two a table relatively close to the plates of food scattered around, figuring her appetite must have arisen during the ceremony. She gestured for the blonde girl to have her share, only waiting until she was satisfied with her portion and had sat down to properly converse.

“How long did I take during the ritual?”

“About twenty minutes…? I always knew these types of things would take an enormous effort in time, but what really bugged me was the old hag standing next to me. She was muttering spells this and that under her breath, and it vexed me so,” she feigned hurt, dramatically sighing herself down onto the table’s masked surface. She quickly sat back up, however, to take a bite out of an umeboshi filling of an onigiri. She shuffled the ball of rice before taking a small nibble at its peak, daintily chewing. This only retracted a light hearted snort from the rosette. She lad herself back comfortably onto the back of her chair, her arms folded neatly under her biceps, rolling her eyes playfully as she watched her friend eat.

“You might want to have one last moment with Tsunade-sama, you know. We’ve all seen how she resorts to all her problems. And it’s annoying how she becomes. I doubt an occasion like this would not leave her like this. The effect you have on her is entertaining,” Sakura gasped as she saw the Yamanaka chug a quick shot sake, roughly setting the small glass down and then exhaling heavily, a drunken smile on her face.

“Pig! You’re not even of age yet! What if someone catches you?!”

“To hell with it, I won’t get as bad as that, and I’ll be sensible. Don’t start acting like Okaa-san just because you’re now a full fledged witch, Forehead. You’ll never hear the end of it from me,” She gave a sly grin.

The Haruno herself only nibbled on such light delicacies, such as a couple steaming takoyaki stringed with brown glaze, mayonnaise, aonori and flickery bonito flakes. It took up some of her appetite before having a small bowl of anmitsu, which had set her straight for the night. She did not drink, even though she was now technically permitted to do so, she wanted no distractions towards her journey out of the woods; she made her mind to stay sensible. Had it been anything else, she would’ve taken a responsible sip, perhaps under the supervision of her mentor.

Speaking of the said woman, she knew she wouldn’t be able to withdraw from the myriad of congratulations she was to receive from everyone, so she deduced that she would not cross paths with the aforementioned Senju. Bitter, she pondered, but it wasn’t impossible for her not to meet before her departure. She highly doubted the woman would miss it, anyway. So she bypassed everyone with suave and ease, greeting them patiently, waiting for the daylight to rise, for the sun to come once again, and then, then, she would finally reach the dreams she had barely been grasping just a few months ago.

::

“You’re going to miss her, Tsunade-sama. I think we all will.”

Shizune had taken her seat besides the woman at her own accord, cautious not to stir up a riot with the Senju-- she knew enough that the former was beginning to feel light-headed. She peeked through her curtain of dark locks to see her expression.

“Shizune.”

“Yes, Ma’am?”

“You remember what happened all those years ago…” She concluded the woman was beginning to stir with fatigue, her lids grew heavy and her hold on the now empty bottle began to fall loose, not so much as to drop it, but slightly softer than before. And plus, she would never disclose information, perhaps this time phrased as a question, out in the open. This alike.

So, Shizune took it rhetorically.

“Why don’t you retire for today, Tsunade-sama? You’ve done so much to prepare for this day…” Her head hung low as the blonde turned to look at her. She couldn’t decipher her expression, much less know that she was staring at her at all, for the short haired woman was searching the pebbles and soiled ground, not meeting her syrupy brown eyes. When she heard a light snore however, the Kato fought the urge to burst out in a fit of laughter, holding the Senju’s weight against her as she sluggishly dragged the both of them towards Tsunade’s abode.

It gave her both a sense of relief and alighting hope that she could let her guard down so easily; the last few months, no, years, had deprived her enough of her sleep and happiness. The only joy was Sakura, but now that she would entirely leave for God knows how long, she doubted the elder woman would be able to comfortably rest without her terrors frequenting her mind. She softened her gaze at the tipsy blonde, content with the fact that at least now, she could be snug in her own skin, if not for a little while.

::

The festive occasion was buried well into the night, further prolonging the early hours of the morning. Which decreed Sakura sleepless when she was quickly checking the supplies she had prepared for her unknown trip. She dressed lightly, unlike a few hours prior when her hips sagged petticoats and her bodice fit with many layers of cotton. Her hair was fully plaited high up, her baby strands hanging loose, stretching out statically, but would not be seen either way as she masked from the hairline and down to the nape of her neck, a light veil, a wimple, that prevented any persons from seeing the concealed pink within. Convenient, and subtly neat, she knew, and she would not grab attention from anyone who lay dully as a stranger to her.

Signo!

Her eyes caught her heap of scrolls sitting idly, cornering the room and gathering dust. She had sealed within them some of her more heavy luggage, so she found it simple to place them in light sheets of tattered paper for now. She placed them into her sac, a brown, old, worn out bag that yet still carried a lot and had mustered so much throughout its time. Apparently, its previous owner had been her mother. She wanted to still keep a piece of her with the pinkette, aside from her notes scripted in her recounts and a small, delicate painting of her.

She leisurely closed the door behind her, fretful that she would cause enough noise to wake the whole coven up. Thankfully, she didn’t, and set off towards the edge of the forest. She was nearing the barrier when she saw two figures up ahead, seemingly awaiting her arrival.

“Ino; Shishou…” 

She trailed off, her brows shaking with utmost emotion she could not contain. She smiled, but her bittersweet beam meant nothing short of a goodbye. It was fruitless if they were to stop her now-- she had made up her mind on what she was going to do, and she’s carrying it out now. But she knew better: they were wanting their farewells to be the absolute last and most meaningful to her, something she would regard in her memory when travelling vast plains, when seeing the moon arise, and then fall.

“Forehead!”

She nodded towards the younger blonde, not long before the latter collapsed her whole figure on the Haruno, pulling her into a bone crushing hug as she let her tears free, dampening the rosette’s shoulder with her salty droplets.

Sakura chuckled sadly, “I’ll miss you too, Pig.”

“Don’t die, dammit. Take good care of yourself, eat well, and just-- just, come back someday. I don’t think I’ll survive forever without you.”

She rubbed circles on the Yamanka’s back to solemnly comfort her. She nodded, making sure of that fact.

“Don’t worry; I’ll visit once in a while.”

“You better.”

That wasn’t from the blonde she was currently in contact, rather, it was the other blonde, the elder in their place, her arms weakly crossed, slightly smiling at her own form. She could make out the heavy bags that drowned her mentor’s lids. It brought a sad feeling to swell up in her chest.

“Don’t push yourself too much, Tsunade-sama. I know first-hand how much you love to do that.”

She nodded firmly, then, taking her small palm into hers, she closed her eyes, gripping tighter, as if memorising each and every inch of her skin. When she opened her eyes, a fresher, more youthful smile appeared on her face.

“As to you, my dear.”

::

Sakura had used her chakra fueled from her emerald to set off, waving one final goodbye to the place she would forever know as her childhood, her home. She was yet to craft a rod to help with the weight of her brilliant stone, but for now, she would worry about what lay ahead of her. It was hours of walking to completely free herself of the woodland, but she knew she could make it. Her limits were definitely more stronger than a couple hours of walking.

Each step further and further away led her feeling such exhilaration, that when she approached a sea of creamy mist, she felt her heart bursting with frisson of not knowing what was there. She steadily walked through it, the grey fog whispering around her. She was not afraid, as she strode further until she could clearly see the break of the sun’s beaming rays,

And a bustling village full of humans lying ahead.

\------------------

Hi again! I’m back with another chapter. How was it? Please leave some sort of feedback for me as I would love to take some constructive criticism from my readers. I’ve been so on and off with this chapter, but I’m decently satisfied with what I’ve done in it.

Thank you, as always, for proof-reading, Julia.

Until next time, goodbye!

-writer


	5. :four:

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimers:  
> -Dedicated to Julia  
> -I do not own any of the Naruto franchise, I’m just making my SasuSaku dreams come to life.  
> -More personal notes will be situated at the end of the chapter
> 
> Enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Some beautiful paths can't be discovered without getting lost.”  
― Erol Ozan

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The dewy grass left trails of freshness that wafted towards her nose, for it was sunrise when she had approached the village. It was massive, buildings wrung with wood and stoned grounds, stalls brimmed with fresh, rosy apples or exotic, blooming flowers flung themselves at her every second, catching her cocooned curiosity quickly. Her dress was modestly masked with a cloak, in case the spring cold would make itself known once more, and torment her small being with its ever freezing bite.

Her footfalls scraped slowly as she wandered through the streets, not paying heed to much of the crowds or clamour for she wanted to check her surroundings at the very least; it was not as if she had anything physically to hide. Her most prominent feature that would glimmer daintily in the sunlight, her glowing pink tresses, were now concealed from prying eyes. And her jewel, the captivating viridescent rhinestone, was tucked away safely in her skirt pocket, where her hand had been tucked in, lightly grasping it for fear that it would suddenly disappear. The only thing that would hold people’s gaze would be her foaming green irises, but she had held her head away in her hood that it would be impossible to observe such globes with practically no sunlight to hover over them. They practically glimmered under the sun’s speculation.

Her strides were slow, and her chest heaved slowly. She took in her sights, savouring her surroundings as she walked further, and further, through the roads. Marketing was certainly a thing she’d caught on straight away, for there were a myriad of sellers, creating clamour for people to take a peep at the things they held in possession. Many were farmers, she took a guess, as they had all sorts of crops and vegetables, fruits and whatnots sitting in their respective baskets, just anxiously waiting to be eaten. Others seemed to have sewn fine clothing, or smooth, meticulously crafted pottery, lathered in clean coats of polish to finish them nicely and make them look quite presentable.

The domesticality was all new to her, a culture she wasn’t very familiar with. Living in a coven all her life, food supplies either discreetly and swiftly delivered or fetched as soon as possible. Residing secretly was something she was used to, the exception of the ritual she had just experienced, along with attending all the others. She wasn’t suited for such open marketing, which proved her uselessness currently all the more when she realised there was not one silver coin in her pocket. Even packed with all her clothes, food to suffice for just a few days, and scrolls to help her study, she wasn’t able to purchase one single thing. It was fruitless to whine and beg, she wouldn't succumb to such vulgarity. Her mentor taught her that, and even so, there was no way she would lower her position as a witch before those humans. 

Even so, she couldn’t help but smile. Ino would enjoy this, she knew. The outdoors was just so suited for an out-going, confident girl such as the said blonde, and it was unfortunate she wouldn’t be accompanying the pinkette. The sun would be much entertained playing with golden locks, and accentuating such crystal eyes.

A new start was certainly refreshing, and she had a tingling feeling that it would be quite soon that she would be reaching new horizons and milestones

::

Wherever Sasuke traversed, a cold, sinister aura always accompanied him, But his firmness wasn’t able to intimidate everyone, so to say. There were, however, many who greatly feared him and the power he held. Those were mostly outside the palace walls, though. Within the elegant patterned pillars and marbled flooring, there was nothing short of being annoyed by the Uchiha. His servants, the dainty things they were, served him rightfully, not complaining unless amongst the company of themselves, and he paid no heed otherwise.

Hearsay was something not really familiar within the castle walls.

However, in the court, it was more than likely to be the everyday news.

Sasuke took his place at the old oak table, sitting comfortably at the head, his eyes steely piercing through the silence of the room. To his right, sat stiffly none other than Hyuuga Hiashi, in all his glory, arms crossed low around the biceps, his mouth achieving such a downturn it surfaced a memory of his own father doing such imposed actions. It made his brows knit deeper, before cooly turning to face frontwards.

“I take it you’re all well,” his words meant nothing; it was just procedure to stall a little before heading to the main topic, he had to remind himself. He’d seen many of his ancestors do so before him, and he wanted nothing more than to place his feet in their steps. A cold stand of wind shook the omnipresent tension this room always carried when such meetings took place.

Silent nods prodded him to continue, and so the raven folded his hands, leaning his elbows pointed on the table as his palms stood in front of him. He sharply inhaled: this conference would last an hour (as always), and so bringing different subjects to light at the right time was always something laying dormant at the back of his mind. He decided to start with the one that probed the nightmares that shook the living daylights out of him.

“Witches. And Warlocks. Those creatures still hang free,” He licked his lips in such a tantalisingly slow way it made one gulp.

“Why?”

His Adam's apple bobbed as the last word came out. His voice was a dagger, slicing the peace of the government before him in one single blow.

“Pardon me, your majesty,”

It was one of the further participants at the table who spoke, nevertheless, his voice wrung firmly, and his eyes, though pale like milk, shone with tenacity that they were quite nice to be held in.

“Those creatures may be vulgar, but they hold some sort of intelligence, sire. They’re hard to catch, and they certainly do not want to be found. I suspect they dwell in an abandoned part of Konoha’s vast forests, but it would be a matter of searches to see. Alas, you and I both know these follow ups have been taken before, and everytime, the result has always been futile.”

“Do you suggest that we abandon our searches entirely, Neji?” he gritted out with venom spitting from his teeth.

“I do not suggest as such, my Lord. However, there is only so much you can do; you’re not yet King of this land, you are Crowned Prince. The level of your status has merely succeeded upwards. There are still elders who have more power over you,” he fussed haughty, for his own clan leader was one of the few. The temptation to stomp over to his chair and rip his throat with the Uchiha’s bare hands was so enticing, but he had self control. He knew it was not the time to play like animals.

But Neji was truly a jackass.

“Hyuuga,” the domineering, stygian orbed male nodded to Hiashi, receiving his stern attention. The silence between them spoke louder than anything, for the elder knew exactly what the prince desired. And although it was something that was made to sleep for the moment, everyone in that room wanted nothing more than those chakra-wielding things to die. A common trait shared by all the civilians and warriors. Those of flesh and bone.

“You ask me to send out troops to find passages to where they lay, Sasuke,” he bit out gruffly. He cleared his throat, almost as if to show he had still a sort of superiority towards him.

“I can do so, but the most I can send is two troops of twenty. It’s a fleeting risk, however, all the more scarce that they will have to split halves in order to scatter north, south, east and west,” he answered. Sasuke refused to release the relieving breath he was holding, and instead flared his nose, as if to contemplate the proposition. It wasn’t much: ten of their men each searching thousands of acres, How long it would take to know of their return infuriated him beyond measure, but then again, less members meant more freedom.

They could move better in less numbers, so that was something that he could hold himself onto. Apparently, it was enough to convince him.

“I’ll take that chance,” his voice was hoarse from not trying to rush his words, an attempt to not sound desperate, for even in a room full of eyes his pride was bound to be torn like a ravaging pack of lions.

A small nod from the Hyuuga was all that he needed to know. Another search was going to be sent.

“Is that all you want to discuss with us, my Lord?” the aforementioned narrowed his eyes at the man who spoke. The lackadaisical, smart annoyance had his arms crossed behind his head, leaning comfortably on the back of his chair as if he had a care in the world. It wouldn’t surprise him if he didn’t. The audacity of the Nara didn’t disturb the Uchiha as much as before, so it only gave him so much as a twitch to his left eye.

“No, but most of the topics I am to discuss aren’t as much of importance. Feel free to sleep through the rest of this conference,” he spoke the last sentence sarcastically.

“May I but in before I snore then, your Highness?” he sighed.

The dark haired male shrugged, as if to say do as you wish.

“Some girl entered the village today,” he chided, “strange gal. Doesn’t look like she’s from here. We ought to keep an eye on her.” he proceeded to yawn, and leant back further, he looked as if to fall off his chair.

“Her appearance, Nara?” the young Hyuuga male inquired.

From his observation, she wasn’t very memorable, having been concealed through a cloak. The only thing that caught his eye was her eyes: the bright, emerald orbs they were.

Interesting.

::

It didn’t take long for Sakura to tire herself out through gallivanting aimlessly, padding her way through stones and pebbles on the ground, the sky’s heat accentuating through every hour, and the board weighted pack on her shoulders smally growing heavier by the minute. She wiped the swelling beads of perspiration that scurried down her forehead with the back of her hand, and released a breath of exasperation.

This village was immense in land expanse, and she hadn’t even gotten through to the heart of it, the place that made her mind twist with fascination-- the palace itself. In all its splendour, the building stood proudly in the heat, almost glimmering with pride: she could see it. But it seemed today was not one of which she could journey so far. She’d seen carriages steadily rocking bye, the horses trotting with such elegance she was entranced so much she stopped just to see them going by.

Oh, what a place this was.

She’d brought with her many of the scrolls containing the recounts of some of her predecessors’ experience, those--of course-- who’d made it out alive, and she pondered whether her experience would be deemed just as exhilarating. Or, gruesome enough to know she’d be burnt alive at the stake. She really didn’t know.

She then had encountered a bakery, blooming with warmth and delicious treats stacked at the window sill, enticing all who laid eyes on them. The pinkette frowned in despair as she knew she would not be able to purchase such a delicacy. Her stomach even whined at how imbecilic she was for not even bringing any coins to spare.

As she was about to move along, a voice caught her attention.

“Excuse me Miss, I can’t help but see how you’re looking at the pastries in our shop. Would you like to buy something?”

Unlike the Haruno, this girl wasn’t wearing a dimple, and so her chestnut locks gleamed hazelnut-like as she made her way towards her. Said strands were neatly folded round the top of her head to create two buns, only a ragged fringe framing her face. She dressed simply, with very few (maybe two) rosy petticoats that rivaled Sakura’s own hair. Not that it mattered-- it wasn’t as if she could see it anyway. She wore a slightly darker shade for her bodice, the tone drifting to a crimson, and her flat stomacher was an off-white, almost cream colour. She was a civilian, no doubt, but she seemed more dressed up than what would be necessary.

“Your shop?”

“Ah, it does seem like I’m not best suited for the occasion in this,” she picked up the thick skirts as a way of gesturing to her outfit, “however my family does own the bakery. You’re not from here, are you? I’m Tenten, a pleasure to meet you!”

Her beam was so bright and fulfilling it made the rosette pop a grin as well, taking her hand and shaking it firmly.

“Sakura, nice to meet you too,” she smiled softly.

“And I would love to buy something from your shop, it’s just that I don’t have any money on me right now. I’m very gratified at the offer, though.”

The brunette shook her head with a laugh, before grabbing the Haruno’s wrist and practically dragging her into the store. They were instantly met with the cozy smell of bread and sweet aromas, and the warmth of ovens burning with fervour.

“Oh, har har! Since you’re new around here, I’ll let you have a pastry for free! Your choice: pick one and it’s on the house,” she gestured to the room. The room was tantalisingly dizzying her with spells of temptation, and this girl was a civilian!

The pinkette smiled weakly and bit out a childish, nervous giggle. Not eating for a while seemed to take a toll on her. 

“I couldn’t. Really, Tenten, I appreciate the offer, but I must get going-”

“But you’re new, Sakura! I bet you don’t even have a place to stay.” she wagged an accusatory finger at the aforementioned. The latter grew pale at the revelation, trying to scatter ideas through her head and pick out the most logical option. However, there was none. It really was inevitable. She didn’t know what to do or say, but opening and closing her mouth frantically in an attempt to let out words was an amusing sight to display.

“Aha!” The brunette smirked. She then proceeded to run behind a counter, and with a flimsy towel, she meticulously pulled out a small, hand-sized meat pie, with slow strings of steam wafting upwards. She pushed her hands towards the Haruno’s petite frame, and instantly caught a whiff. She swallowed, before acquiescing.  
The inside of her mouth burst with flavour as she took a bite. Her tongue tingled as she chewed pensively, still captured in the eyes of a certain baker’s daughter.

“I-It’s good,” she commented.

She ended up eating another one after.

::

Shikamaru was always observant, his skills made prominent for the Uchiha’s gain, and although it was a trapping situation, he didn’t mind. His life always bore him no matter what he did, the most he spent doing was making out the shapes of clouds in his spare time. That, and help soothe the load of paperwork that had been flung on his shoulders.

As of this moment, the conference had come to a close, and he was free to roam as much as he desired. 

Instead, he sat at a small bar stall, a metal mug of beer filled to the brim with golden alcoholic liquid, topped off with frothy substances bursting atop. One pint of the drink, and above all, his tobacco pipe puffed with intoxicating reels of smoke, making the man beside him choke in disgust.

“God, Shikamaru, do you have to smoke that crap?! It stinks!”

He would have scoffed at the said Uzumaki, who vexibly stalked him to this den after claiming that he needed some sort of relief off of all his errands as ‘Teme’s Right-Hand man’, and wanted some company. He still had no clue how the blonde was able to get away with that filthy nickname. But it wasn’t his place to judge their relationship, as the topic itself was something so obscure it confused even the two men in the involved party. And the Nara really didn’t appreciate getting himself into puzzling situations that twisted his brain unless he was forced to, or it was a pastime he participated in.

“If you don’t like it, you can leave, Naruto.” he sighed, as he took a swig at the beer in front of him, gasping as the bitter drink swelled down his throat. It was a bitter-sweet feeling, but he was used to it. It burned, but he relished in the pain.

“No way! I’m staying, ‘ttebayo. Oi, bartender! I’d like a pint sized mug of whiskey if you will!” she exclaimed, slamming his fisted hand on the sticky countertop. No one made enough effort to properly clean the wooden table, but no one complained.

Shikamaru shook his head, punching the blonde’s bicep rather harshly:

“I’m not taking care of a drunk you.”

He swatted his hand in the air as if dismissing him lightly, his nose wrinkling in laughter. As his drink was carefully handed to him, he recklessly bumped it towards the beer on the counter, slightly tipping the liquids together in an attempt to make some sort of toast.

“I’ll be careful, promise.”

The Nara was tempted to mutter something along the lines of ‘tis what you said last time’, but he held his tongue and instead sucked in yet another breath of tobacco, his mind slightly clouding in a sort of dizzy utopia. He heard a breathy exhale from his left before a slightly slurred sentence arrived, leaving his brows furrowed in calculation.

“Hey, heard from Sasuke that there’s a new girl in town. Do you know where she is, now?”

“What, are you willing to scare yet another one of the female species that resides in Konoha?”

The Uzumaki sputtered, leaving a smirk to cross the brunet’s features.

“Go to hell, Shikamaru!”

“And no, I just wanna meet her.” he lipped, pouting like a child. He was obviously highly offended, and that added to the other man’s pride.

In the end the two downed their drinks forcefully, not wasting one drop and yet attempting hard to sustain themselves from succumbing to the drunkenness. However their walking patterns seemed quite unsturdy and Naruto was easily daydreaming, so it wasn’t a good sign. In the end, they tossed their cash to the bartender carelessly, and stumbled around the village in search of a certain lady.

::

They found her, and quite simply too. The Nara remembered she was last seen, and where he found her, at the bakery he most frequented, since their baked goods were better than the others, it was a good travelling pace of exercise, and it was conjoined with a neighbouring weaponry store next door which they also owned. So, easily, they found her, although that was just going to be a place of questioning her whereabouts.

The bell chimed as the wooden door opened.

“Tenten,” Shikamaru respectfully regarded, a clumsy Naruto staggering behind. The shop was warm and cozy, and instantly scents of sweet and savoury adorned his senses.

“Tenten! Nice to see ya, we were wondering if you’ve got any information about where the new girl is-”

The brunet stopped in confusion at the sudden halt of breath from the Uzumaki. Something that he didn’t do often. Something in his opinion that he should do often. But that wasn’t the point.

He found the blonde gaping ahead of him, all sense of inebriation perished as his eyes glistened with a look of familiarity at whatever was behind him. Instantly, he turned around.

A small girl sat at the furthest table, shoulders squared and eyes wide with the same look of intensity as the male beside him. Her mouth hung lowly, as she was blinking frantically, as if they were an illusion she was trying to escape from. Her rosy brows knitted as she tried to find the words to say, but the whole room rushed cold as the two apparently came to the same sort of conclusion of words.

“Sakura-chan?!”  
“Naruto?!”

\--------------------------

Hi! Merry Christmas, or whatever you celebrate around this time. Can you believe it? 2020 is finally over, my God. My friends and I are deciding to go on a zoom call and play rick astley’s never gonna give you up as the end credits of this year. Seriously, it all goes downhill from here fnhdbkjdf. One of my friends is already stomping on 2021, don’t get me started lol.

I hope you guys enjoyed this chapter! Please comment/review, as I really like to know that people still read my story, especially on ffnet and ao3. To those who have done so before, thank you so much! Every comment/review makes my entire day.

since my beta reader had something come up, until you read this, Julia! XD

Yours truly,

-Avis


	6. :five:

:five:

Disclaimers:  
-Dedicated to Julia  
-I do not own any of the Naruto franchise bois  
-more informal notes will be situated at the end of this chapter  
Enjoy!

:::

“I would rather walk with a friend in the dark, than alone in the light.”  
― Helen Keller

:::

It had been pleasantly quiet and calm at the bakery, Sakura supposed. There wasn’t much to it-- a large counter that took up about a third of the room, stacked with pastries, cakes, and whatever sweet or savoury foods could be placed in the oven. It surrounded Tenten, and a large kiln, which was currently excited with flickering flames twirling and twinkling under chaky coal stones. To enter, there was a small flap instead of counter space, at which one would fold upwards in order to enter. 

There were two windows sitting beside the door on either side, fully opened, allowing the sun to shine through with no hesitation. There wasn’t any need for oil lamps, lest night appeared and stole away the daylight warmth. The pinkette knew that next door was the weaponry, but she didn’t think to take a look. It certainly wasn’t her place, and she also had nothing to do, nowhere to go. She would wait for the lovely maiden Tenten to finish up whatever pie she was making, before they would converse.

Once the aforementioned brunette placed the pie into the kiln, closing the lid, she dusted her dry, flour-covered hands onto her apron, clapping them to rid her of the powder. She immediately went to the lonely table where Sakura was situated, and gave her a bright smile.

“So, welcome to Konoha! Is there any specific reason you came here?”

Luckily, the Haruno already conjured a reasonable excuse to counteract the question.

“I was visiting family a few villages from here; I decided to take shelter here. I promise you I don’t mean any harm.” she held her hands up, as if accused of crime. It was partly true, she would never unintentionally hurt anyone, not even a human. For now. At this current moment, she was all but curious; she wanted to know more of the civilian world.

The brunette nodded thoughtfully, her brows slightly frowning in a sense of calibration. She turned back to the pinkette, scanning her figure carefully.

“Did you like the pies?”

“Very much, Tenten. Thank you again,” her belly finally stopped complaining. 

The silence that heaved wasn’t uncomfortable, but it was a little stretched. Sakura knew that humans hated her kind, and she had stuck that opinion into her skin for so long she’d forgotten just how kind they could be to their own. She wondered if this would keep up; the girl seemed too kind and willing for her own good, but not so much to be called a naivete. The pinkette was certain Tenten wasn’t the only resident here at the current moment, her parents taking a brief period to have their own lunches somewhere upstairs, and she would take a gamble they would like her.

She was already hanging thinly from a thread, had not her wimple sheltered a part of that strangeness.

“You should really be wary around here, especially during the night,” the bunned girl lowly murmured. The air grew thicker as a lump appeared in her throat, bubbling ferociously like a coal.

“Why so?”

Hazel eyes proceeded to scan the wooden table beneath them, the one their arms were leaning on, and her index finger lid over the natural lines that marked the dark wood. She then looked the rosette dead in the eye, all light ebbed away in the matter of nanoseconds.

“Witches and Warlocks. I suppose you’ve heard of them?”

Sakura wondered if there was a single human that didn’t.

“Of course I’ve heard of those...vile beings,” she hesitantly shrugged. The way she spat it out made her want to hit herself, but made it all the more convincing. It was a harsh step, but it lit the small flame of hope that her presence wasn’t one to be dealt with brashly. That she wasn’t a threat. Though her concealed identity screamed otherwise.

“Konohagakure is the closest village to the forest, kinda make sense why that woodland is even named after us. That’s where the majority live, you know. You better be careful, especially at night. You never know when they will suddenly come out, and...and hex us.”

She wanted to smile, really. The Haruno found it absurdly hilarious. The humans, scared of her? What good did that do in explaining all the punishments then. From all the scrolled accounts she’d read, the one flaw all the witches and warlocks had who had died at humanity’s hands, was the fact that they trusted these people. Trusted them enough to unravel the burning secret sealed within them, and they paid the consequences. Never once had they been spared, not once.

And then the war, the terrible thing it did. Bodies, scattered everywhere, drenched in the blood of who knows, but it wasn’t just their own. Many lives were lost in the consecutive weeks. Then her kind went into hiding. She’d never thought of it as a cowardly decision, as it had served them good, being away from those humans.

That’s why the ones who decided to leave the coven only went rogue. They weren’t to go in groups, and were to someday come back to report what they were experiencing. Very few were able to do it, but it wasn’t impossible. From that, Sakura garnered as much information she could possibly gain, and set foot, like her ancestors before her, into a world where she could possibly rendezvous with death. But for now, her escort would only be risks, and faltered trust she would have in her human companions. But it would never be enough, she deeply knew. When push came to shove, she’d be dead by the next sunrise.

It was inevitable, she supposed. Her price for stepping into unknown territory. 

“Say, it’s really strange you come here and not know a thing about Konoha. What village did you visit your family?”

It was only natural to be curious, but that question cornered the pinkette more than ever. Her mind flipped its pages, recalling any neighbouring villages nearing, and from her lap, surrounded in the fabric of her skirt, her hands were trembling.

“S-Suna. Sunagakure. You heard of it?” she said, albeit a bit too quickly. She’d have to give it to herself, it was better than pretending to have short term memory loss on the spot. The beads of sweat carrying her melanin though, couldn’t be helped. 

“Ah, I see! That would’ve been quite the journey; a few days at most. You must be exhausted!” Tenten was back to her euphoric self, which was definitely a good sign. Se mentally sighed, clearing off another box in her checklist.

“Say, there’s still things I’m sceptical about. If I’d known better, I’d say you were a witch yourself.”

Sakura froze.

::

“I’m kidding, you know.”

Tenten burst out laughing, clutching to her stomach as her lips pooled a series of chuckles.

“Even so, you’re in foreign terrain to your hometown. Allow me to tell you about the monarchy here,” she light-heartedly offered. The pinkette found no other way to refuse, since it would serve her a great advantage knowing as much about Konoha as humanly possible. It would definitely help her in the long run, gaining trusts and smoothly letting herself into the heart of this place. She didn’t have any ill intentions, but it would be nice to try and give a shot of reasoning with the sovereign. About their hate toward each other’s kind. 

She nodded once, her gaze calculating and serious. Many of her kind before her had come to Konoha, since it was the closest town, but that meant that this village was the most wary, most suspicious of newcomers. It was only natural to be, and so all Sakura had to do was to be as suave as possible. Play it cool.

“There isn’t a...proper ruler here, I daresay. Not a King, or a Queen. Not since…” the prinkette could see the visible shudder, and immediately knew what she was talking about. Such tragic memories, even after years have passed, still haunted her. And the Haruno couldn’t blame her for it. Both sides of the battle were absolutely torn after days of fighting and pain, flesh ripped and blood scattered across the plains.

“There’s a crowned prince, around our age. The sole survivor of his family, the Uchiha. He won’t be King until he’s twenty-one.”

“Uchiha Sasuke, he isn’t exactly a tyrant, but his presence is feared throughout the village. He’s cold, his demeanour extremely intimidating. And his government consists of the Hyuuga clan, which, after the Uchiha, is revered. The other members of his council are basically his companions from childhood, you’ll come to know them anyway, so I’ll leave it to them to introduce themselves. His Majesty’s advisors come here for a snack every now and then, so it isn’t much of a big deal in seeing them anymore.” she shrugged.

Sakura grasped all this information with a grain of salt. She had no idea of what to expect from the crowned prince’s closest colleagues, but being able to put up with someone as dull as him, they either would be the most boring people the world had ever known, or the party bringers. She’d just have to find out on her own.

“I see,” she smiled.

::

Present

“Naruto…” 

She’d repeated the name, like a mantra on her lips, her tongue grazing each syllable softly like a feather, as her eyes glossed with worry. She hadn’t said that name in years, and it was certainly shocking her that she’d be saying it once more. But there was no denying it; that man, staring back at her in the bakery, sobering quickly, cheeks flushed and blonde tufts unkempt, was Uzumaki Naruto. Son of the Warlock Namikaze Minato and Uzumaki Kushina, two of the most potent of her coven who had unfortunately passed away whilst in the midst of battle. Their deaths were one of the most memorable; from what she’d heard. They’d never met them, stories of old were all that was left of their left of their legacy.

Apparently, their deaths weren’t in vain. She liked to believe no death could be.

And Naruto? He was a close friend of hers, and Ino, too. He’d gone missing at thirteen, and while many assumed he was dead, Sakura never gave up. She’d thought of him daily, wondering where he was, what he was doing at this time. She’d imagine him to be making his new home at a new coven, pondering if he would ever want to visit his hometown again, to reunite with his childhood company, his family. But seeing him here, drunk just minutes prior, so...so comfortable amongst humans, their absolute nemesis, she couldn’t help but feel anger surge within her veins.

“Uzumaki Naruto!!”

\--------

I really hate this chapter. I’m sorry it’s so crappy and short, but I will make it up in the next chapter. This was better planned in my head, honestly. Anyway thank you for sticking around and reading this. See ya

-writer


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